Dark Pastel Purple
by Madam'zelleGiry
Summary: The future of the Order of the Phoenix is in dire peril, bodies falling left and right... and in the midst of it all, a young love burns bright. Sirius Black/Dorcas Meadows.


**Author's Note: Takes place simultaneously to my other piece, _Scent of the Breeze_, but the two are not directly related.**

* * *

There was a storm brewing, that much was clear. When she looked out of the window of the small teashop, Dorcas Meadows could see that the sky resembled a strangely dark pastel purple; such a color was not promising when coupled with a squally wind and a few aberrantly large raindrops. The outside appeared so deviant that she became to wonder whether it was actually natural weather or not.

_He's angry again…_

It was not a promising thought at all. The idea of Sirius being out there on a night like tonight, with You Know Who angry and triumphant… She hadn't wanted him to go. They'd received a Patronus from Dumbledore a few hours ago saying that something had happened at the McKinnons. Intelligence hadn't been able to get close enough to see the whole thing, but it was believed that they were all dead. And Sirius had volunteered to be among the members of the Order who would help to do the necessary damage control.

She'd begged him not to go. If the Death Eaters were still in the area, they'd be thirsting for blood; why would they settle for only the McKinnons when they knew that a full party from the Order would be bound to show up? But he'd gently kissed her forehead and told her not to worry, that he'd be just fine and he'd meet her at the teashop by Grimmauld Place as soon as he could.

That had been four hours ago. Yes, she knew that she was probably jumping to conclusions. If Dumbledore was right (and how she prayed that he wasn't), the damage was unbelievable. The house had completely been destroyed. Marlene and her family were almost certainly dead….

Dorcas took a slow sip of tea, mentally shaking her head sadly. It was just too much. Marlene… Choking a sob back with the tea, she set the cup down on the scuffed surface of the table and put her head in her hands.

"Miss Meadows?"

She jumped at the sound of the voice, not having heard the little bell over the door of the shop tinkle to signal an entrance. Lifting her head again, she was surprised to see her Hogwarts Charms professor standing next to the table. His diminutive form was such that she could only see him from slightly above the neck up, but his face was unmistakably sympathetic.

"Are you alright, Miss Meadows?" he asked, almost hesitantly touching her hand.

She hadn't realized that said hand was shaking quite to that degree. Dorcas gave a short nod, trying not to cry. Though the attempt was in vain, and she dropped her head into her hands again and allowed the tears to fall.

Flitwick glanced around at the teashop, seeing that it was empty apart from a young woman in fishnets and a shockingly short, pink dress. The type to chaw away at whatever was handy, not the type to listen it, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "Muffliato!" he whispered, discretely flicking his wand in her direction from under his robes.

Safe to speak as they would, he jumped his way onto the chair opposite Dorcas; it wasn't easy, but he managed to make it up there in the end. Waiting for a gentle moment, he decided to speak again.

"Miss Meadows?" he asked softly, expectantly. "She can't hear you. What is it?"

Dorcas finally looked up, her face tear-streaked and red. She glanced over at the waitress and then back to Professor Flitwick, finally cracking a small smile when she realized what he had done. "I thought you didn't approve of that spell."

"It's desperate times we live in, my dear." Flitwick shrugged, and Dorcas could have sworn that she saw a little grin in his eyes.

"Have you heard about the McKinnons?" she asked, her face going serious once more. When he nodded, she sighed and continued, "Dumbledore sent us a Patronus a few hours ago, and Sirius has gone to do what he can to help."

Flitwick swallowed, giving another sad bob of his head. "I was with Albus when we discovered the news. To die so young… a very terrible tragedy." He frowned, looking at her carefully. "But there is something more that's troubling you, young one. You're worried about Mr. Black."

"Yes, I am." She wasn't able to look at him.

He paused, trying to figure out what to say to her. "I expect that Albus wouldn't allow you to go after what happened. Are you fully recovered now?"

She shook her head. A few weeks ago, there had been a raid on the Ministry, forcing the Order to send some of the very best to combat the attacking Death Eaters while restoring peace. While they had managed to fight the Death Eaters off, she'd been injured in the process with several stunners to the chest. It was nothing that would not heal in time, but it had left her weak and in pain. Dumbledore had told her that it wasn't worth possibly losing her. "I suppose Dumbledore was right, but I could have helped. I'm strong enough."

"Albus knew what he was doing when he gave you the order. I'm only glad that you listened to him." He smiled. "You always were rebellious in your school days. But I suppose that's what happens when you call Mr. Black and Mr. Potter your friends."

Dorcas laughed in spite of herself. She knew exactly what her old professor was doing, but she had to admit that the purposeful distraction was most welcome. More welcome than he could possibly know. Still smiling to herself, she cast another glance out the window at the street. The rain had started to fall harder now, soaking the pavement and passersby alike. Muggles ran to and fro in the rain, trying not to get wet but failing miserably… wait. That wasn't a Muggle.

She was on her feet in an instant, flying out the door to find him, to catch him before he fell, to pull him to safety so that she could Apparate away…

* * *

As he watched her hurry off with Mr. Black in her arms, Flitwick couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Black didn't look good at all. Still, it would probably be better to let them alone. Albus would likely be able to give him an update before much time had passed.

With a sigh, he turned himself around on the chair so that he was facing the aisle and scooted off, landing neatly on his feet. He'd not ordered anything for himself, but since Dorcas had gone off without paying, it was the least he could do to pay for her after seeing her so upset. Unless she'd already paid… Merlin's beard but these Muggle shops are so confusing.

He approached the girl at the counter, remembering to remove the Muffliato charm as he went. She didn't look at all impressed to see him coming, even less so when he couldn't quite see over the top of the counter to talk to her. She grumbled but came around the corner so that she could see him properly.

"Good evening," he squeaked. "I was wondering if the young lady who was at that table had paid for her drink?"

"What's it to you?" she asked, blowing a bubble with her gum so big that he was surprised that it didn't stick to her poofy hair. "I don't even know you. Why do you want to know?"

"Because she had an emergency and had to leave. I'd like to pay for her, if I might."

"Yeah, well, you're too late. You pay when you order here, little guy. So if you don't want anything, I'd suggest you get out of my shop."

Flitwick shook his head in disapproval. _Muggles these days…_

* * *

"Damn it, Sirius, your pride is going to be the death of you. Let me look at it." Dorcas couldn't keep the terror out of her voice; the words were light and annoyed, but the tone betrayed it all.

He shook his head, his face as pale as she'd ever seen. His eyes were screwed shut and his breath came in short gasps, as he grasped at his bleeding leg.

"What's going on?" a voice squalled from the sitting room of Grimmauld Place. They'd landed in the foyer, as this was the only safe place that she could think of at the time. But now, however, she was beginning to regret it.

"Don't tell him…" he gasped out between clenched teeth. "Doesn't need to know I'm here. If Kreacher tells my mother, we're done for."

She nodded. "Do you want to go? I don't think you should be moved…"

He shook his head. "Get me upstairs?"

"Okay, my love."

* * *

Depositing him on the attic bed after a shaky Apparition, she bit her lip, catching a glimpse of the bloody, mangled mess that used to be his left leg. "What happened?"

"Dog." He grimaced, pulling himself into a sitting position to try and get a look at his injury. "Belonged to the McKinnons. Attacked the lot of us. It was deranged; I think the Death Eaters must have Imperiused it, because that's the sweetest dog in the world normally. I transformed to fight it off, but it bit me. Hard. Luckily I was able to stop it in the end before it got anyone else."

Dorcas sat on the rusty, creaky bed next to him, gently pulling the fabric of his trousers away from the wound. "And the McKinnons?"

"All dead." He took her hands, streaked with blood, in his. For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing. Then, she forgot he was hurt… and buried her face in his shirt. The tears began to fall once more.

And he held her, rocking her back and forth, apparently oblivious to the pain in his leg. "Ssshhh, it'll be okay," he murmured stroking her hair as he rocked. "It's not over."

"Marlene and her family are gone," she whispered between her tears. "What next? If You Know Who wanted to make an example of her, he's not done yet…" she trailed off, pulling herself closer to him. The question that lingered in the back of her mind was almost too much to bear, never mind ask.

But Sirius noticed, reaching to touch her chin and make her look at him. "What is it, my love? What else? I'm okay. I made it out alive. Only a flesh wound, isn't that what the Muggles say?"

"Sirius… do you think that we have a chance? Can we really win this?" Sirius looked so taken aback at the question that she felt she had no choice but to keep speaking. "Marlene is gone, and she's not the first. She probably won't be the last. But who will be? Will we all be gone in the end and that's it? He wins? He's picking us off like we're cattle ready for slaughter and we can't fight back… there's nothing we can do."

"Don't ever say that again."

His tone was such that she looked him straight in the eye, and she knew that every word would be precious.

"Do you remember when I was living with the Potters after my mother chucked me out? And how Mr. Potter became like a second father to me?"

She nodded.

"It was hard starting out there sometimes… adjusting to life without my mother wasn't hard, but a new life kind of scared me. I had no idea what to expect. All I knew was that I didn't want to go back to the way things were at home. And Mr. Potter always said the same thing to me when he knew I was worried: 'Do not dwell in the past; do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.'"

Dorcas paused, feeling the words slide over her mind as she considered their meaning. "Mr. Potter always was so kind to you."

"And he was right. You have no idea how right he was. Did you know that his favorite book was The Fellowship of the Ring?"

"All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us," quoted Dorcas, remembering this story fondly. The tears had stopped, and she knew that Sirius wanted to see her smile. For him, she could do that much. "I was so worried about you."

"I know. And I know how much you wanted to be there. But Dumbledore was right. You'll be able to help soon. You're almost better. And You Know Who won't know who hit him!"

She laughed, and the laugh was not false. As he pulled her close, she closed her eyes and rested against him. Concentrate the mind of the present moment… Yes, that was something she could do. She sat herself up again, laughing softly. "I think we'd better get that leg of yours cleaned up so we can get out of here before your mother finds out."

"Why _did_ you bring us here?" he asked, using his wand to siphen some of the blood away.

"It was the closest place I could think of," she said, conjuring up a long bandage.

He looked at her mischievously, as though he didn't quite believe her. "Were you taking your joking pills again?"

"Not recently!" she grinned, leaning in for a kiss. And with it came hope for the future… hope that all would be well. And a knowledge that good always does triumph over evil, however cliché it may sound.

* * *

Three weeks later, Sirius Black stood at her gravestone. Stood at the gravestone of another hero of the war. Another gravestone for another hero, but this time it would be the last. That much he swore. To think that she died so horribly...

She was so brave… she gave up so much…

No more deaths. No more.

* * *

**Written for the third round of the Light and Darkness competition. **

**Prompts used:**

**First Wizarding War, Dorcas Meadows/Sirius Black, Filius Flitwick, dark pastel purple, "I don't even know you", pride, the Edward Cullen Song, cattle, "Do not dwell in the past; do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment." – Buddha, angst, joking pills**


End file.
